


my blood is singing with your voice

by diviningthestorm



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Boot Worship, Dubious Consent, Hand & Finger Kink, M/M, Mild Puppyplay, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Staci is willing but doesn't have a choice either way, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-24
Updated: 2018-08-24
Packaged: 2019-07-01 18:52:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15780024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diviningthestorm/pseuds/diviningthestorm
Summary: Jacob would like Deputy Pratt to properly express his gratitude for not being tossed to the Judges.





	my blood is singing with your voice

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Howl by Florence + The Machine

It started after the usual shaving routine, Jacob’s weekly way of reminding Pratt how weak he was. Too weak to slash the razor, too weak to go down fighting, would rather just be Jacob’s bitch for life, ain’t that right, Peaches?

Staci could tell today would be different from start, had started being able to tell Jacob’s moods apart. The practices indifference under Staci’s hands held an odd note of tension, a thrum of excitement. It made Staci’s hands grip the razor all the tighter. Jacob’s excitement was invariably Staci’s pain. 

Or, had been. 

Jacob had changed recently - or had it been Staci? Staci finally made useful, finally obedient, a good little Judge at his Master’s heel. Staci didn’t feel any stronger. Felt hollow and broken and a shell of a deputy but Jacob told him he had made progress. Told he was so much stronger now. And Jacob was always, only, right. 

There were rumors, too. That the Deputy (capital D, nothing like _deputy_ Pratt. Deputy Rook had actually killed two of the Heralds that had caught her and escaped from the last. Deputy Rook would not be culled.) had been seen with Joseph. That they listened to the sermons now. That Eden’s gates had opened for them. Two seals had broken, but now the Peggie’s whispered that the third might never break. It would explain Jacob’s increased attention on him. No longer worried about breaking Rook in. Leaving her re-education to the Father, he put all his attention on Staci. 

Making Staci into his perfect pet. Not a soldier. Jacob didn’t make his soldiers shave him, didn’t keep them leashed to his desk. Didn’t make them crawl after him on hands and knees and drag them in the dirt when they didn’t move fast enough. 

Only Pratt. 

Pratt stepped aside to let Jacob inspect his work, arms neatly folded and head down. Jacob must’ve found it satisfactory, the next thing out of mouth a simple

“Kneel." 

Pratt went without hesitation. Any dignity had long since been starved out of him. He knew well his life relied on pleasing Jacob now, on rolling over at the man's word. All the more so if the Deputy had truly become one of Them. 

A sharp tongue click snapped Pratt’s eyes onto Jacob’s knees. He avoided eye contact unless Jacob forced it, preferred not to see the reflection of himself in Jacob’s eyes. Sometimes he didn't recognize the strange thin creature staring back at him. 

“You’ve probably heard the rumors about the Deputy by now. It’s true. Joe got her. Found the pup blissed to her tits and sobbing in the ruins of Faith’s bunker after she ran away from us. She saw the light. The Father will officially announce her joining the Family any time now.” 

Staci worked to breathe evenly. Forced himself to let go of his breath, let it ease out with the little tendril of hope he had held somewhere deep inside, under the red haze and _killyesexcellentculltheherd_. 

“You’re all mine now, Staci. No one’s coming to save you. It’s only me.”

Breath. In. Out. 

 “Yes, Sir.” Staci winced as his voice cracked halfway through “sir”, turning into a whine. 

“Aw, pup, I’m hurt. You should be grateful. You know how many of my soldiers are fuckin’ gagging to be my cockwarmer?”,

Staci flinched at the profanity and ducked his head. Jacob had already made it quite clear what Staci’s eventual role would be with trailing hands and lingering glances, but their newfound abundance of time had made him blunter,

“And I chose you. Only you, Staci. I could’ve tossed you in with the Weak. Let the Judges have you for dinner. The only reason I didn’t at first was Joseph’s Word. But I’ve grown attached to my little runt, think I’ll keep you around. You should be grateful.” 

“Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.” 

“No.” Jacob had a talent for packing so much disappointment in one curt snap. 

“Be more specific. C’mon, Peaches. Exactly what are you grateful for?”

Jacob sat back, arms looped around the back of his chair, legs splayed. The embodiment of easy dominance, utterly confident in Staci’s submission. The razor lay by his feet, ignored. 

Staci swallowed. Clenched and unclenched his fists. Reminded himself that Jacob was right. The Deputy in Joseph’s hands meant he was useless to Jacob. Too much of a liability to ever truly be allowed far from him and the dulcet tones of his music box. Too hated to be of use around the camp, no matter what Jos- _the Father_  might say about forgiveness. Staci saw the looks the Peggies gave him, like he was a lost rabbit among wolves. Only good for Jacob. 

“Thank you for keeping me, Sir. Thank you for not culling me. T-thank you for choosing me, even though I was. _Am_. Weak.” 

“Not bad,” Jacob brought his legs together, feet pushed forward until his boots nearly touched Staci’s knees. “Now, I think you should show me exactly how grateful you are. My pretty ol’ face isn’t the only thing in need of grooming.”

Staci knew where this going. Jacob had threatened him with making him lick his boots before. Even made him lick his hands clean of blood, once, when Staci had made the mistake of defending a woman slated for culling. Jacob killed her himself and made Staci lick the mess off of him. In comparison, boot licking was practically shore leave. 

Jacob languidly crossed his ankles, letting Pratt see the caked mud and leaves in the treads. 

“Get to it, pup.”

Staci hurried to obey, sped along by the pet name. Jacob was in a good mood if he was treating Staci like one of his Judges. It was when he judged Staci like the other prisoners that he found Staci lacking, found him too weak, too unwilling to cull the herd. He shuffled his knees back enough that he could lean forward and touch his nose to the tip of the combat boot resting on top. He got the first lick out of the way quickly, knew Jacob didn’t appreciate hesitation in obeying commands. It was unpleasant, but not unbearable. A mixture of dirt and leather. Staci let his mind drift as he threw himself into his task, taking long licks from tip to side and up the tongue of the boot. Worrying at stains with the tip of his tongue and trying not think about what they had come from.

Staci moved to the more unpleasant task of removing the mud when a pleased hiss and a hand reaching for him pulled him out of his reverie. 

“Excellent.”

Staci leaned forward to give Jacob better access to him, keening at the praise. Jacob pulled his legs up from under Staci, allowing him to rest his elbows on his knees and lean in. 

He ran a thumb over Staci’s lips, pressing in with the tip and humming in pleasure when Staci easily opened for him. Staci could eye the tent in Jacob’s cargos from his position and knew there was a matching bulge in his own. Locking eyes with Jacob he leaned in, taking Jacob’s thumb all the way in, letting his tongue loll out to the underside of his palm. 

Jacob snorted practically in time with his cock twitching in interest, movements visible even below the fabric. 

“Glad you’re coming around to the program, pup. Finally learning your place.” Staci reminded himself not to roll his eyes at Jacob’s obviously affected tone, the soldier so careful to not appear too interested. Only the Deputy had gotten that privilege, Jacob’s full attention without the show of distance he kept between himself and the other prisoners. But the Deputy was Joseph’s now so Jacob got the weaker of Hope County’s deputies and Staci got almost-just his full attention.

Pressure just this edge of painful reminded Staci he had a job a to do. Stay focused. He slowly pulled off Jacob’s thumb, purposefully pushing saliva up with it, letting it spill down his chin. Know your purpose, play the part, be a good dog. Jacob broke the wet chain connecting them, wiping his hand on Pratt’s cheek. 

Jacob leaned back, shifting to make sure Pratt had a direct line of sight to his cock and Pratt keened at the bulge. Shame losing out to the pooling heat in his gut and the throbbing between his legs. He’d beg like a bitch in heat, drool all over himself for Jacob’s cock, if it meant some release. 

By the look in Jacob’s eyes, he knew it, too. 

“You’re pretty like this, Staci. All flushed and gagging for it. Think I wanna keep you like this a little longer. Watch you scramble to impress me all day, all for a chance to taste me.”

Pratt bit his tongue against the rising frustration. Knew better than to argue with Jacob. Jacob allowed some bite in his pets, even enjoyed it, but arguing with his decisions was a one-way ticket back to the cages and the red haze of the music box. 

So Staci climbed to his feet, wincing and adjusting himself against the painful hardness. It was a small comfort to know that Jacob was experiencing his own discomfort, loathe that he might be to show it. Was just as on edge as Pratt. The two of them locked in their own perfect vicious circle. No one was coming to save him. The Deputy was Joseph’s and no one had heard from the Sheriff in weeks.

There was only Jacob, now.


End file.
